


Seven Wastelanders

by Mr_Malvo



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/F, F/M, Western
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-05-02 12:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19199128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Malvo/pseuds/Mr_Malvo
Summary: Inspired by Seven Samurai and The Magnificent Seven. Years after The Battle of Hoover Dam, Goodsprings has prospered. With an influx of settlers, the town has grown into a respectable settlement that catches the eye of a malicious force and his army. Desperate, the people of Goodsprings recruit seven strangers to fight for them and their freedom.





	1. Big Trouble in Little Goodsprings

Malcolm Calvera, once a friend to the people of Goodsprings, now walked into the town as their Overlord. Gone was the warmth and goodwill he had built up with these folks over the course of several months. Now, when he walked in, people kept a wide berth. Afraid of his friendly looking smile and his kindly persona. For underneath it was a vicious and coldblooded man.

He had strode in to the once small town, surrounded by his 12 of his armed guards, all clad in strange and colorful armor and carrying laser rifles and automatic rifles the people of Goodsprings had never seen before. All except one that stood out in particular. A red headed woman with a pony tail, strode right next to Malcolm. Wearing dark sunglasses and a long black trench coat that almost hit her feet, and black boots. Trudy felt herself sweat just looking at her. Nothing seemed to phase her. The heat certainly didn't bother her. She had a fancy assault rifle the rest of them carried, along with two 357 Magnums. No longer did Calvera shake hands, wave, give hugs, or toss a cap or two at some of the local children. And no longer did anyone flock to him. As he made his way down the main street to the saloon where Trudy kept her office, he eyed the people. And was subsequently amused at the way they shrunk back into whatever building they had been standing by. He was a handsome man. Black combed back hair, tanned skin, a strong jawline. Though his voice had a strange, yet subtle nasal quality to it.

Trudy stood outside her office at the end of the main street, arms crossed with a wagon by her side, full of the stuff they now owed Malcolm for his "protection."

"Hello there, Ms. Trudy," he began. He took her hand and kissed it. She had to try very hard to hold in her revulsion. "Looking as lovely as ever. Have you done something new with the bar? I love it!"

"There's your stuff, Malcolm," Trudy said in a deadpan tone while gesturing to the wagon,"just take it and leave, if you please."

He raised his eyebrows behind his sunglasses, amused,"Oh, come on now, Trudy,” he says removing his sunglasses, "there’s no need to be like that. We're gonna be partners for a very long time," he motioned at the mercenaries at his side to grab the wagon,"might as well get along."

Trudy scoffed, "You got some nerve."

He winked at her, "Yes, I do, Ma'am," he put on his sunglasses and turned to his troops, "all right boys, Lydia lets pack it up and head out."

The red headed woman stepped up to Trudy and just stared. Stared right through her sunglasses and seemingly through Trudy. She doesn't say a word, but her message comes across loud and clear.

"Lydia," Calvera calls back, "let’s get outta here. You can scare the life outta Trudy next month."

She steps away from Trudy and goes to follow her master.

Two of them dragged the wagon behind Calvera while the rest stayed at his sides. He glanced at both sides of the street, looking inside the windows for anyone watching. He had just turned his head to look when one his men screamed.

"Dynamite!"

Malcolm jumped behind the wagon in an instant, Lydia covering him as he went, and his men scattered. He crawled away trying to get as far from the explosion as he could. He crawled for several more seconds before he finally stopped and covered his head with his arms. Lydia over him, shielding his body with her's. He braced for the explosion and then...nothing. He looked behind him at the wagon. He waited a few more seconds and stood up slowly, Lydia helping him. He crouched behind the wagon and peaked over it, eyeing the dynamite. He nodded at Lydia in thanks.

"Fucking dud," he said, he stood up, still not taking his eyes off it. He turned to his guards, "Get up!" They did. He turned to the townspeople in the shops,"Who threw this?! Huh?!" Nobody answered. "Oh it just fell out of the fucking sky, did it? Nah," he motioned at Lydia and pulled out his gun, a modded .45 caliber version of common 9mm pistol found in the Mojave Wasteland,"pull somebody outta one of the stores and bring 'em out here. Now." She nodded and headed towards one of the stores.

Trudy made her way to Calvera with Sunny Smiles right behind her, "Malcolm, please."

He held his hand up, "I tried to be nice, now stay back or it's gonna be you."

Sunny tried to make a move, but Trudy held her back, shaking her head. Inside the store a woman was screaming and a commotion was heard. Trudy cursed under her breath, in disbelief at all that was happening. After a moment, the woman with the red hair came out and who she had made Trudy's heart sink.

It was a small boy, no more than maybe 10 years old. The boy's mother right behind him screaming as another man held her back. The boy was crying. Lydia was holding him up with one arm.

Even Calvera had his mouth open in disbelief, "Jesus," he said, "a kid?"

Trudy felt her hopes go up, maybe he wasn't a complete monster.

"Want me to get someone else?" Lydia asked.

Calvera looked around, "No, it's fine. Give him here." She put the boy down and Malcolm grabbed him by the back of his shirt, pulling the boy to him. "What's your name?"

Trudy is about to step forward as the boy says his name when suddenly a voice cries out, "All right, there's no need for that!" Despite how loud the shout is, the voice is surprisingly even.

Everyone turns to see an old man in a prospector's outfit shuffling towards them from a building. For the second time today, Trudy's heart sinks into her stomach.

"It was me," says Easy Pete, "now you let that boy go."

"Damn, old man," says Calvera as he lets the boy run off, "totally killed the mood here. I had a sinister countdown prepared and everything." He scratches his head with his gun, his finger still on the trigger.

Easy Pete gets closer as the town watches, "Well, no need for that either, Mister. You can just shoot me and be done with it."

Trudy moves forward, "Pete, please-"

Pete holds his hand up,"It's okay, Trudy."

“Yeah, Trudy," says Calvera," it's okay."And in one swift motion he lifts his gun and shoots Pete in the chest. The townspeople drown out Trudy's scream with their own as Malcolm starts barking orders," You two, get the wagon moving. The rest of you keep an eye on them. Anyone moves towards us, shoot them!" And to Trudy's horror he makes his way over to Pete, who is on the floor groaning and writhing in pain. "You stay with me, old man," Calvera says as he grabs hold of Pete,"you're gonna want to see this one." And he starts to drag Pete to the center of the street.

Sunny is about to let go of Trudy and fire at Malcolm when someone else beats her to it.

The bullet hits him square in the back, but instead of crumpling over he just keeps dragging Pete. If anything he treats it like a minor annoyance. He doesn't bleed. A bit of the suit peels back and reveals a fiber underneath. Something bulletproof and pliable.

"Fire, you idiots! Lydia, do the thing!" He yells. And his guards do as they're told. The fire wildly into the crowds of people on both sides of the street. Some people charge at his red headed body guard but she cuts them down in seconds moving with unbelievable speed and precision. Pink mist exits the back of people's heads every time she pulls the trigger on her assault rifle. People fall over and some fire back. None hitting their marks. Sunny grabs Trudy and brings her down to the ground keeping her covered. The guards only fire for a few seconds but it goes on for what feels like hours. By the time it's done, seven people are dead. Finally Calvera stops dragging Pete and looks up. "Everybody pay attention!" He yells as he starts walking away motioning for the guards to come follow him. When they're far enough away, he stops and speaks again, "I'll be back in three weeks! Have more of my stuff ready! I'm gonna have some of my boys stay here and keep an eye on you! But in case that isn't enough, some more are coming tomorrow. Aand, if that isn't enough, I got one more thing to say. So, listen closely!" He pulls out his gun and aims. And with horror everyone realizes what he's shooting at.

"Trudy, Sunny..." is the last thing Pete says before the bullet hits the dynamite next to him.

 

* * *

 

 

The saloon is in an uproar. Not a word can be heard clearly. Most people have stayed home, but there are enough in the saloon who want to talk things over. People shouting over each other desperate to be heard. Finally, Sunny fires a round.

"I understand that we're all upset, but nothing will be solved if no one can hear a fucking word being said!" Cheyenne barks, backing Sunny up. Sunny nods at her dog in thanks. "Now," she continues,"Trudy has the floor." She waves Trudy over, who steps up in front of everyone sitting down.

She is as nervous as she's ever been. She had liked it better when she was their leader unofficially, less chance of being looked to in an emergency. But when the town had grown to the state it had, being unofficial wasn't going to be possible anymore. Sunny had nominated her instantly, much to her dismay and the town had agreed. She was flattered at the time, but now she'd rather have been anywhere else.

Trudy clears her throat, fighting back tears, "Now, we can argue all day. We can shout all day. But that's not going to solve the problem. We have to actually do something."

"Like what?!" A familiar voice shouts. The familiar whine can only belong to Chet. A weapons and armor merchant who had been here even before The Courier had arrived. "What exactly are we supposed to do, Trudy?!"

"If you'd allow me to finish," Trudy says sharply," I will tell you. Now, I have no intention of giving that murderous son of a bitch one more thing," she straightens up,"we don't have the manpower or firepower or training or anything to do anything ourselves. But, we do have enough caps and other things to trade to hire people who can."

Another panicked citizen stands up, "But that's all supposed to go to Mr. Calvera! He's supposed to be back in three weeks! And he's left his guards here. What happens if we don't have what we owe him because we gave it to someone else or if he finds out what we're doing?!"

"And on top of that, he has an army! Who is going to want to fight against those odds?!"

"What choice do we have?!" Sunny exclaims.

"Then he kills us," Trudy says plainly, "and honestly I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd rather die than live my life in servitude to him."

"Goddamn right!" Sunny says.

The crowd stays quiet for a moment and Chet is about to complain again when someone says, "Hell yeah!"

"Fuck Malcolm!"

"Let's do this!"

"For Pete!"

And everyone starts nodding and affirming their next move.

"All right," Trudy says,"any ideas of where we should look? Or who we should send?"

Sunny steps forward, "I'll go. And I know exactly where to go."

Trudy looks incredulous, "Oh really? And where's that?"

Sunny smacks her forehead mockingly, "It's obvious. We go to Vegas! Six can help us!"


	2. The Pastor and The Barman

"I can't believe this Goddamned heat." The blonde woman in the Pastor Vestments says. Behind her is a big Mister Gutsy on treads of her own design packed to the brim with her things. "How about you, T?"  
  
"I'm not programmed to feel discomfort." A deep robotic voice says.  
  
She takes off her brown fedora and sunglasses and wipes her forehead sweat off, "Of course you're not. My mistake." She had neglected to give the robot a personality as she was just using it to carry her stuff around. Sometimes she regretted it, but it was a small price to pay for having what was essentially a big robotic pack mule with a minigun and missile launcher. She pulls out a pack of some purified water, drinking some of it, and pouring the rest of it on her face and running it through her longer than normal hair, before putting her sunglasses back on.  
  
She brings up her Pip-boy forgetting momentarily that she doesn't have a map of this area yet on her device. Everywhere she had been through, throughout the States she had been able to find a computer somewhere to update it relatively quickly, except for out here. The people in Novac had told her that if she just kept north she could get to Vegas and maybe find someone there who could update her Pip-boy for her. She can already see it in the distance, the big buildings looking closer from where she is. But she figures it's still early in the day and if she hustles, she can get there before dark. And hopefully find a place to stash T in the meantime. She hadn't been in the Mojave wasteland for long, but much like The Commonwealth, there wasn't a shortage of people out here who would stab you for anything you had on you.  
  
"Same old shit, different coast." She said. She stopped at a place called the Grub 'n Gulp before making her way into Vegas.

* * *

  
  
Sunny had managed to sneak out before dawn the day before. She had moved as fast she could with Cheyenne, the sooner she got to Vegas the sooner she could find someone to help. She didn't know what the guards would do if they noticed she was gone, but she didn't want to think about that. It killed her to leave everyone there, and she felt the pressure. If Six couldn’t help, then they were more than likely fucked. She spots what she thinks is the entrance to New Vegas and it's enough to distract her from her nervous stupor.

* * *

  
Shortly after The Battle of Hoover Dam, The Courier had walked into the slums called Freeside and negotiated with the locals. The Kings had been well acquainted The Courier as she had helped them out on various occasions. With their blessing, she had ordered securitrons into Freeside to help make peace with the locals, only allowing the securitrons to go attended by a King. Her charisma and connections with the rest of the Mojave Wasteland mixed with the trust of The Kings had helped her transform Freeside into another section of New Vegas. One of the conditions being that the Securitrons only guard the North Gate, but that there be actual people guarding all the establishments and gates into Freeside. The only time Securitrons would come into Freeside would be an extreme emergency. Within years it had become a bustling trade hub. A giant marketplace was the source of most of the local economy. New businesses had opened almost overnight. The streets were transformed from a slum, to it's own settlement. Freeside wasn't just a place for junkies and psychopaths anymore. Lights shined through the night, people gambled in multiple smaller casinos, drank in the new bars, danced in the new clubs, and ate in the new restaurants. While not openly connected to the North Gate, as that was still a little too expensive for the people of Freeside, it had become it's own place for people to visit and live in. And it thrived.

* * *

  
  
Entering Freeside had not been what Sunny was expecting. While the guards had asked about what she was doing in New Vegas, it wasn't overly intrusive or all that intimidating. They reminded her that she was allowed her weapon and dog, but not to start any trouble.  
  
"Standard Wasteland rules," one of the guards said, "don't shoot anyone unless

 they start trouble with you." He looked down at Cheyenne. "How trained is your dog?"

"She does what she's told." Sunny replied.  
  
"Good, keep her on a short leash. Go on through. Enjoy your stay."  
  
Sunny nodded and walked through the gate.

* * *

  
Not a few moments before Sunny and Cheyenne had arrived, The Pastor had gotten through the gate and into Freeside itself. She didn't know what to expect when entering, but it hadn't been this. This made Diamond City back in Boston look like a small fledgling settlement. It must have been a busy day, because everywhere she looked she saw crowds of people. Gathering at the stalls selling their wares or entering and exiting some of the buildings. The buildings themselves may not all have been that high tech, but they were mostly impressive. Some had big neon signs and some were just boards with the names painted on. But they all looked full and lively. She wandered through the crowds eyeing the stalls with people calling out their wares and the big stores, casinos, restaurants, and bars behind them. One particular shop stood out to her. This was one of the ones with a big neon sign, but it had a relatively short name compared to everywhere else. Marv's. It stood out to her because it looked a lot more extravagant and expensive than everywhere else around it.

"Maybe a good place to get some work." She said to herself. She looked ahead to the big bright buildings not too far ahead. These looked like proper Vegas. The one she had visited before the war. And a sad pang hit her stomach. Memories assaulted her quicker than she could put them away. Memories of Nate. Before they had gotten married. Before they had...memories of winning big at a black jack table and spending the rest of the night celebrating and drinking the night away. Staying up till 7:00 AM and sleeping till three in the afternoon, being late for their checkout and having to pay extra before going back home. She shook her head as if to rid herself of the thoughts. "Enough of that," she said to herself," what do I need?" She tried to run down her mental check list, but the memories stayed. Jabbing at her painfully. "Oh fuck it," she said walking towards a man who looked kind enough, "excuse me, know where I can get a good drink around here?"

The man nodded, "Why of course," he pointed to his left, "See the place next to Marv's? It's called Wanderers, the bartender there knows what he's doing. He'll get you sorted out," he eyed her up and down noticing the outfit, "didn't know you religious types drank."

She mentally kicked herself for that one, "Not that kind of religious."

The man shrugged," Oh, bartender's name is Tuco, tell him Tommy sent you and your first drink is free."

"Oh shit," she said before she could stop herself,"thanks a lot, stranger." The man nodded and walked away. "Welp," she said, "Guess I know where I'll be for a while." And she made her way to the bar.

* * *

  
Sunny Smiles hadn't even been in Vegas one hour and already she was in The Lucky 38, about to meet the Head Honcho herself.

Ten minutes in Freeside and someone had walked up to her, informing her that she was to pass through the gate into the Strip into The Lucky 38. When she had attempted to ask what this was all about, this woman, in her cowboy hat had simply said, "Don't worry about it, hun. Nothin' shifty goin' on here. Just an old friend who wants to see you." And all at once Sunny understood. And before she could stop herself, she found herself smiling.  
  
"You mean-" was as far as she had gotten before the woman in front of her shushed her.

"Enough of that," she said, "just follow me." And Sunny did.

Twenty-seven minutes after she had entered Freeside, Sunny was now standing in the Penthouse suite of The Lucky 38. She stood at the window marveling with Cheyenne right next to her. She had never been so high up anywhere in her life. Once that fact dawned on her, she started to back up a little. Suddenly not so comfortable with the idea.

"Really something isn't it?" She heard behind her.

Sunny turned around and took in who was standing in front of her.

The Courier stood there, her long dark hair an undone mess, a red silk robe, a white t-shirt, some jeans, and some soft blue things over her socks that Sunny didn't really have a name for. Much like the person standing before her. She wore glasses, one of the lenses blacked out to cover her missing left eye. A long scar can be seen across her left cheek.

"Six?" Sunny uttered without being able to stop herself. And before she could move forward Cheyenne had made her way to the enigmatic woman Sunny and Goodsprings called a friend.

Six got to her knees to hug and pet the dog in front of her, "Cheyenne, did you come all the way to see me?!"

Sunny couldn't help but smile at the sight. It had been so long since they had seen each other, and Cheyenne LOVED Six. She let them stay like that for a moment, with the Courier petting and baby talking to Cheyenne, like she had many times before the Battle for Hoover Dam. It almost made Sunny forget that this woman was basically the Queen of the Mojave. Sunny made her way over, "It's good to see you."

Six looked up and stood, meeting Sunny's gaze at eye level. Before Sunny could process what was happening, the Courier wrapped her up in a big hug. Sunny returned the embrace, it hitting her all at once how much she had missed her friend, "Oh, God. Sunny, it's been too long." She let go and stood back, wiping her eye.

"You big baby." Sunny said jokingly.

"Oh, shut it, Smiles," Six said, playfully hitting her on the arm,"You want a drink?"

"Oh, hell yes."

The Courier led her over to the bar, "So, what brings you to my domain? Didn't figure you'd ever leave Goodsprings." She grabbed to glasses and searched for a bottle behind the bar.

Sunny sat down at one of the stools, "It's a long, sad, fucked up story."

Six looked up from behind the bar, "Should I get the good stuff?"

Sunny nodded.

Six found what she was looking for and poured it into the glasses."First," she said as she raised her glass,"here's to you." They clinked their glasses together and downed them at once. The whiskey doing it's work and washing through them. Warming them up and steadying their nerves. "So," The Courier said," what's going on?" Sunny sighed and told the story.

When it was all over, they were four drinks in and still as sober as when they started. "And now," Sunny said," here I am."

"Shit," Six said, taking another sip of her drink, "Pete's dead?"

"Dead as dead can be...fuck. Look, I know you're busy, being the Queen of the Wasteland," Sunny said while motioning behind her, she didn't catch Six's pained expression at the title," but is there anyway you can come back with me? Help us deal with it?"

Six took a deep breath and exhaled, it looked like she was in pain. "I'm sorry. I can't."

Sunny just stared for a moment. Not sure she had heard correctly. Six just let her soak it in. She had refused to help her. Sunny wanted to shout, cuss her out, ask her what the fuck she meant, but all that came out was, “Um...what?”

* * *

  
  
The bartender of Wanderer’s had done a marvelous job so far. Seeing as how she was four drinks in and no longer thinking about old times. "I don't know what this is," she said holding the glass up to the barman, "but it is wonderful." She said taking another sip.

"Well," The man said, "so honored to have the blessing of a woman of the cloth." He exaggerates his Mexican accent a bit and crosses himself.

She finished her drink, "As you should be. Go in peace, my son." She said as she crossed him with her hand. They both laughed.

She hadn't known him very long, but she already liked him. Tuco was a jovial sort. Not a big man, by any measure, but not small either. He looked like he could take care of himself if it came down to it, but he didn't seem violent by nature. Just about average height. He had a military haircut, his sides shaved and the top cut short. He had a stubble, he hadn't shaved in a day or so. Or maybe he just hadn't that morning. He wore what looked like a grey mechanic jumpsuit. Fitting with the theme of old world cars and bikes in his bar. He had greeted her with a big smile on his face, he had been endlessly amused by her choice of attire. Claiming that she had been the first church goer to enter his fine establishment. "Isn't it against the rules for women to be Priests or Preachers or whatever?" He had said, testing her sensibilities.

"Well, yes but only two people have ever known enough to bring that up to me.” She replied, a cheeky smile on her face.

“Well,” Tuco began, genuinely curious as to what this strange woman was going to say next, “what happened to the first guy?”

The Pastor smirked, “Got eaten by a Deathclaw… I’m not saying it’ll happen to you. But you can’t be too careful.”

He laughed a big infectious laugh, "Here's to being too careful, then." And they each downed their drinks. "So," he said as he poured her another, "what brings you way from wherever you came from?"

She took the drink and sighed, "That is a long, sad, fucked up story, Tuco. Probably just like everyone else I imagine."

"Yeah," he said leaning on the bar," but everyone else doesn't walk in wearing a Pastor's vestments."  
  
She raised her drink, but didn't put it to her mouth,"I'll grant you that, I'm sure I'm dressed a little out of the ordinary."

"And that's saying something," Tuco replied," we're in Vegas." He was about to ask her a follow up question when someone to his right pounded on the bar.

“Tuco," a man said slurring, "when you're done flirting with the priest over here, can you pour me another one?"

The barman rolled his eyes, "Excuse me," he said to her under his breath and walked over to a skinny jittery man three chairs down," Randy I think you've had enough. And I've let you drink without paying enough. Go home."

Randy looked up at Tuco, a worried look on his face,"You know why I can't go home."

Tuco leaned in close to him, and though he couldn't see her, the Pastor was straining to listen in, "It ain't my fault you owe The Kings. I let you stay any longer and you'll pull me into trouble right along with you. Man up, get out there, and deal with it before I kick you out." Behind them the door to the bar opened.

Suddenly she couldn't help herself and looked over. Luckily, they were both concentrating on each other pretty hard. Tuco's jovial nature had vanished from his face and Randy's had a dangerous desperation to it. They looked at each other for a good long moment, or at least it felt like it, before finally Randy nodded solemnly, put his drink down, and headed towards the door.

Randy really was ready and willing to face the music. He had been for all of five seconds until he saw who was in the process of sitting down next to the odd woman in the religious clothes. It was Lilly, The King's new young bride. Before he could stop himself, he gasped. She heard it and turned in his direction. Recognition hit her face, she was in the process of saying a curse when without even knowing he was doing it, Randy pulled a knife out of his back pocket.

* * *

  
Sunny was miserable and she felt thirsty and a headache coming on, a result of drinking enough to feel slightly buzzed but not enough to actually get drunk. She was pissed, too. Goodsprings had opened its doors to her, helped her, and at various times before the Battle for Hoover Dam, been a hideout for Six when she needed it. And how did she repay them? With some pity caps and a fancy gun. Six had offered her a room in the 38 to rest up, but Sunny had denied it. She didn't want anything else from her. Right now all she wanted was a good stiff drink. Some older guy had told her to head down to a place called Wanderers next to the big neon sign of a place called Marv's. Cheyenne walked next to her, just as sad as her owner. Whining now and then. "I know, girl," Sunny said, "if an actual friend can't help us, how the hell are we gonna find anyone else that will?" Cheyenne nuzzled up next to her, trying to give her some comfort. Sunny was about to kneel down and pet her when she noticed something of a crowd outside the place next to Marv's. She guessed it was Wanderers, but couldn't read the sign.

She ran up to the crowd and pushed her way through it to the door, which was swung open, she could see inside. A guy was holding a woman in a pretty looking dress hostage while another guy stood behind the bar staying perfectly still and a woman in strange clothing talked as calmly as she could. Sunny turned to a woman in the crowd,"What the hell's going on?" She asked.  
  
The woman turned to her, "Randy, the one with the knife, just took The King's new bride hostage. He told Tuco not to move a muscle on account of the gun he keeps behind the bar, and that Pastor lady is trying to talk him down."

"Jesus," Sunny said, although she wanted to know who The King was, she felt it best not to ask.

"I know," the other woman said,"he's lucky he knew about Tuco's shotgun under the bar, that boy is crazy accurate, but you can't be that accurate with something like that."

Sunny's interest was piqued,"How accurate is he with anything else?"

"Very. Once saw him gun down someone who refused to pay their tab, he had almost made it to The Strip's entrance by the time Tuco pulled the trigger. That guy didn't even die."

"Wow," Sunny said,"what about the other one, you know anything about her?"

The woman shook her head, "Today's the first time I've seen her. Real peculiar, though. Kinda sticks out."

Sunny nodded in agreement. She was peculiar. Despite how crazy this whole situation was, she seemed perfectly calm and in control. Tuco was keeping his shit together, but she could tell he was freaking out internally. Randy and the girl he had hostage seemed to be the only ones actually panicking at the moment.

He was backing up slowly but surely and the Pastor was following every step of the way. Sunny very quietly peeked around the door to see where he was going. From where she was at the door, she was directly to the barman's left, though he was some feet away. She racked her brain to see if there was anything she could do. On the opposite end of the the room, where Tuco was looking, Randy was inching into what looked like a closet. Who knew what the hell he was going to do in there? He'd be completely trapped.

Sunny then remembered the gun Six had given her. It was this odd looking revolver, Six had called it That Gun. She pulled it out of the bag Six had given her and tried to make a plan. She watched as Randy entered that closet. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled towards Tuco, going behind the bar. She had gotten very close before he finally noticed.

He looked down and then back up,"Who are you and what the hell are you doing?" He whispered sharply.

"Here to help." She whispered back.

"How?"

"I hear you're accurate," she saw the shotgun in front of him under the bar," can't be all that accurate with that, though."

"I am. and I can't" he said," what's the point and how can you help?"

"With this," she said, pulling out That Gun and showing it to him,"think you can handle it?"

"Yeah," he whispered," she needs to get him out of that closet, though. I don't know what she's thinking letting him in."

"Well, I guess that's up to her."

* * *

  
  
The closet they had stepped into was a lot like the storage closet she had back before the war. Only when you walked in, you had to move to your left to grab anything, as that's where all the space was. She made sure to keep the door open so that Tuco could keep an eye on her. She looked to her left and saw him nod down at something. He pulled a gun out of nowhere and aimed it in her direction. She knew what she had to do.

"Look Randy, I know you're scared and desperate, we've all been there. But taking The King's wife hostage isn't gonna help your case." She had no idea who The King was or why he was so important, but she had heard Tuco mention it when this had all started and it seemed to bring Randy back from time to time.

"You ain't helping either, lady! Stay back!" He said as he pulled the knife away from Lilly's neck and aimed it at the other woman's direction.

"Look. I don't know either of you. But I know neither of you want to be here, hell I don't want to be here. I just wanted to be at the bar enjoying my drink. But you’ve kinda fucked up my night. What you're doing is wrong, Randy!"

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and in that instant, she saw a container on a shelf to her left positioned just above Randy's head. The shelf ran all the way across to where she was standing. It didn't look bolted on, but just a piece of wood place on some metal columns. If she could pull it down while he was distracted, he'd be off balance enough to get Lilly free.

"It's okay, Randy," she said slowly moving her arm over, trying to make it look like she was going to casually lean on it,"You're young. You've made mistakes. Big ones, but you can come back from it."

He grimaced and looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"But this is all reversible. No one's been hurt yet," she placed her hand on the shelf," you can still do the right thing." She made her voice soft and motherly. As she painfully knew she could do.

Tears welled up in Randy's eyes his vision cloudy as he pressed the knife to Lilly’s neck harder.

"It's okay, kid," she said, "it's okay."

He clenched his eyes and moved to wipe his tears with the knife in his hand. That's when she made her move.

* * *

  
  
From where they were standing they just saw her move forward and disappear. They heard Lilly scream and a commotion. Tuco took a breath and let it out, getting ready, but being careful not to shoot the wrong person.  
  
"Run, Lilly!" They heard from inside. Tuco knew that was a warning meant for him and didn't fire when Lilly ran out screaming.

There was a scuffle, things were clanging around inside. They heard grunts and straining. Randy screamed and sobbed. Yelling that it was all her fault. They heard one big effort and he hit the wall becoming visible. Before he could turn his head all the way Tuco pulled the trigger and splattered his brains on the wall behind him.

"Pastor!" He called out as he jumped the bar and made his way to the closet with Sunny right behind him, "You alive?!" Upon closer inspection they could actually see the knife stuck on the right side of Randy's chest.

A hand appeared out of the doorway as The Pastor pulled herself out. "Yeah, I'm fine," she dug in her pocket," think my sunglasses are broken though." She looked at Sunny. "Who are you?"

They both look to Sunny and she straightens up. "My name's Sunny Smiles," she catches their quizzical looks,"yeah I know. And I just want to ask, you two aren't looking for work by any chance, are you?"


	3. Fight Night

They were all sitting around a table in the now empty bar as Sunny explained her situation. Tuco had closed it early for the day and emptied it out. Putting the deadbolts on the door and pulling out a bottle of The Real Good Stuff for all of them to drink. Between what had happened with Randy and Sunny's troubles, they all could use some of his special concoction. Cheyenne had already taken a liking to The Pastor. Happy to let the mysterious woman pet her while she listened to Sunny's story. The growth of Goodsprings, the arrival of Calvera, the false sense of security he had lulled them into, and how in what seemed like an instant, he had gone from friend to extortionist to murderer and dictator.  
  
"Right before he left town," Sunny said, "an old prospector-"  
  
"I'm sorry," The Pastor interjected," what's a prospector?"  
  
"Just a nicer Old World word for scavenger," Tuco said, "they poke around looking for anything useful."  
  
"I'm sorry, can I finish?" Sunny said, annoyed.  
  
"Sorry," replied The Pastor, "I'm new to the area still getting my bearings. Go on. I won't interrupt again."  
  
Sunny took a breath and a sip of her drink, "It's okay. Well anyway. Before Malcolm left last time, an old prospector named Pete tried to end our problems for us. He wasn't a violent man, and his days of prospecting were over, he just wanted us to live in peace!" She paused, clearing her throat, "Well, as he was leaving town Pete threw a stick of dynamite at him, but it didn't go off. Bad fuse or something. Then, that son of a bitch pulled a boy out of a store and was ready to kill him before Pete revealed himself."

“Jesus." Tuco said.

"He shot Pete," Sunny stopped for a moment, cleared her throat, then continued, "but didn't kill him right away. He dragged him over to where the dynamite had landed and once he was far enough away he..." she didn't finish. Cheyenne took notice and went away from The Pastor and straight to Sunny's side. While Tuco gave her some more of his special whiskey to drink. She took it, nodding a thanks and drinking some. She cleared her throat again and spoke, "anyway, so here I am. Looking for people willing to risk their lives so they can help us take on a psychopath and his army."

Tuco turned his gaze to The Pastor, who was sitting there mulling this all over. She was clearly of two minds on this matter. But he couldn't tell whether she would agree to this whole thing.

“So, you are,” her gaze turned intense, she stayed quiet for a moment, “Sunny. You understand what it means when you start something like this? Once it starts there’s no going back, you’re in all the way.”  
  
“I didn’t start anything,” Sunny replied, the emotional exhaustion in her voice clear, “neither did Goodsprings. Malcolm did. And we aim to finish it, we just need a little help to do so.”  
  
“And Goodsprings is behind you on this? They’re willing to give just as much as you are?”  
  
Sunny leaned forward and looked The Pastor in the eye, “Everything we have.”  
  
The Pastor nodded, “Well all right then, I’m in,” she turned to Tuco, “how about you?”  
  
Tuco replied without hesitation, “I fucking hate bullies, so yeah, I’m in.”  
  
Sunny let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, “Thank you.”  
  
“Don’t thank us just yet, we still need to help and hopefully survive,” she stood up and beckoned the two, “come on, let’s take a walk. See if we can find some other idiots willing to throw their lives away.” She smirked as she said it.  
  
“Wait,” Sunny said, “I don’t even know your name.”  
  
“Yeah,” said The Pastor, “funny how that didn’t come up, huh?” Tuco and Sunny both just stared for a moment, waiting, finally she spoke up again, “You can call me Morgan.”

* * *

  
"All right," she said as they exited the bar. It was darker now, some of the stalls were closing, but the street stayed full of people, "we are gonna need some real good people if we're gonna pull this off. If this is anything like Boston, there'll be guns all over we can hire and some we can rope in by getting them to owe us."

"Wait," Tuco said as he locked up his bar. The shotgun from under the counter in a holster on his back, "you're from way the hell out in Boston?"

"What's Boston?" Asked Sunny, looking very much lost.

Morgan rolled her eyes, "That's beside the point. Places like this work the same. But if I know Vegas, the real party starts at night, gets grimier than it does in the daytime, am I right, Tuco?"

He stared at her surprised, "Yeah, how'd you know? You been here before?"

A painful jolt hit and she shrugged it off, trying to hide it. "Long time ago. Long story. Come on. Tuco, this your town, you tell me where the dangerous types hang out." She said as she started walking.

They made their way through crowds of people. Some walking, some standing at the stalls. Some entranced by the women dancing in front of their respective bars and clubs, trying to get people to come inside.

"Well," he said as he walked behind her, "there's guns for hire all over here in Freeside," he said as he motioned around, "but they're all mostly small time. People you hire to watch your back for a couple of hours while you gamble and drink, but most are unreliable. There used to be the Van Graffs, but they got wiped out. The King might-

"Wait a second." Morgan said as she stopped dead in her tracks looking to her right, almost causing Tuco to run into her. And Sunny almost kept walking ahead with Cheyenne.

He stumbled around her and almost tripped, running into someone who grumbled as he mumbled an apology, "What happened? You can't just stop like that in these crowds."

She ignored him, “what about in there?" She pointed ahead of her.

Tuco frowned, "Seriously?"

They were looking at a big establishment, the big neon logo showing two sides, and on each, a line of silhouetted people. Some with their fists up like boxers, some with knives, swords, bats, and other types of weapons. The name of the place was Rama's Mojave Fight Night. Underneath in smaller letters was a tagline: From Fists Only to Full on Death Matches!

"Might be just what we need is in there." Morgan said, pointing emphatically.

"Come on," Tuco said skeptically, "there's nothing but brawlers and bloodthirsty maniacs in there. That's not what we need."

"Untrue," Morgan replied, "a brawler or bloodthirsty maniac might be exactly what we need. One of the toughest people I ever met, I hooked up with in a place just like this. She once helped me take out a Deathclaw and all she had was an aluminum bat with spikes coming out of it."

"Whoa, really?" Said Sunny, suddenly this didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"Oh yeah," Tuco said crossing his arms, "and where is she?"

The Pastor shrugged, "Back in Boston where I left her, probably near the bottom of a bottle of alcohol or shagging some Commonwealth hooker. As she often colorfully put it."

"Wait," Sunny said, holding her hands up, "when you said, hooked up, did you mean-"

"Point is," Morgan said quickly, "this could be what we need. Now come on." And she began to walk toward the entrance.

Tuco and Sunny looked at each other, with a questioning look in their eyes. Tuco shrugged first and began to follow after her. "Wait!"

Morgan stopped and turned to look at Tuco, "What?"

He pulled out That Gun, "You shouldn't be going inside a spot like this or anywhere else here, really, without a gun. Take it. I like my shotgun more anyway."

She took it from him, appraising it, getting a feel for the weight. Felt good. She twirled it in her hand a couple of times like a cowboy in one of the movies she saw back before the war. This all passed through her mind while she twirled it and threw it up in the air, catching it without looking or even thinking about it. She put it in her holster, "Not bad. Thanks." And they all went inside.

* * *

  
They had paid the man at the entrance ten caps apiece to get inside. Once inside, Morgan was hit with a big feeling of Deja Vu, this place had almost the exact same set up as The Combat Zone back in The Commonwealth. Only differences being, less raiders, no hostages taken, and instead of a full-on cage, it was a round arena in the center, dug in to the ground. Far enough to go over the competitor's heads, but not so far that they couldn't climb out. All the seats were set up around it so everyone could get a good look inside at the violence. It was loud in here. To the left of the arena was a band, playing mostly loud, savage, drums. Fast or slower depending on the speed of the fight and the chants of the crowd. To their left was a bookie's station, where people could place bets on the fights going on throughout the night. It was essentially a big cage with a man inside. He had on no shirt, several tattoos, a big mohawk, and some very dignified, fancy, small eyeglasses. Morgan made for it with Tuco, Sunny, and Cheyenne in tow.

"Excuse me there, sir." Morgan said.

"No more bets, for the night." He said quickly, "unless a death match is agreed to, all bets are closed."

Morgan clicked her tongue disappointedly, "Well, can you tell me who is fighting tonight? Any repeat competitors?"

"You lookin' for an inside scoop?" He leaned in closer, "Might accidentally let something slip, if you were to drop some caps in here by accident."

Morgan smiled mischievously, passing five into the cage, "Oops."

The man chuckled, "Well right now," he began, "it's Mad Man Marty and Raging Rocky. Up after is The Assassin vs Distinguished Daniel."

"Distinguished Daniel?" Sunny said struggling to hold back laughter. While Tuco rolled his eyes.

Morgan wasn't laughing. Something the bookie said had caught her attention, "Tell me about The Assassin."

"Ooh she’s real interesting. Ain't been back in a while, some think she may have some ring rust." The Bookie said with a smile.

"What else can you tell me about her?”

"Not much," The Bookie said shrugging, “just showed up in town one day dressed in all black like a weirdo. She hangs out at Marv’s with the guy Isaac who sets up people’s security systems.”

"Hmm," Morgan had a feeling, "and how much longer till she is out?"

The Bookie shrugged, "Any second now. Marty looks like he's about done with Rocky over there."

"And what are the running odds on The Assassin’s fight?"

"Can't go that far," the Bookie said, "too late now, let's just say they're very, very much stacked against her. Like I said, K's been outta the game for a good long while. And Dan's on a winning streak."

"I'm sorry, K?"

"Her civilian name. That's all she goes by."

Now her interest was really piqued. "I can respect that," said Morgan, she dropped another 10 caps on the counter, "my. I'm so clumsy today." The bookie winked at her and bid her farewell. She turned back towards Tuco and Sunny.

"Why the hard-on for The Assassin?" Tuco asked.

"Just a gut feeling," said Morgan," come on. Let's find some seats, I wanna get a good look."

They found seats on the second level. It was very crowded, unlike down below right next to the arena. In the arena two very tired fighters were swinging wildly. They were both bloodied and bruised beyond recognition, but somehow still standing. There was blood on the walls of the arena and all over the ground. The people in audience were shouting in what sounded like another language. The drums were going very slowly as they signaled the match's end was near. Morgan and the rest couldn't find any enjoyment in any of this. Tuco, especially looked like he'd rather be anywhere other than here. While Sunny just stroked Cheyenne's fur over and over to distract herself. Down below the one called Mad Man had managed to tackle the other one called Rocky and was now pummeling his face over and over. After a while, Rocky stopped defending himself and a horn went off. Half the crowd erupted in cheers while the other booed and cursed. Apparently having lost a lot of caps.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, your winner! Mad. Man. MMMMMMARTY!" An announcer over a loudspeaker shouted. As people very quickly entered the arena to get the competitors out before the next fight. "And now, your next bout of the evening! A contest of skill and patience!" Some stood up to leave at this, but not everyone. Apparently, some weren't entertained by a match unless it had blood right away. "This event is an old fashioned duel! One round! With the possibility of another going into a death match! The Rules are simple. First to land strikes to a mortal part of the opponent's body is the winner. Should both fighters accept, real weapons will be given and a death match will commence! Introducing first, Your reigning dueling champion!" A man in what looked like an old world dress shirt, vest and pants walked into the arena. His hair well conditioned and looked after. In one hand, he had what looked like a whip and in the other a big, rough looking, wooden practice sword. "Fighting on behalf of Sally's Fine Freeside Dining, The Man who punishes his foes...Distinguished DAAAANIEL!" The ones next to and below Morgan, Sunny, and Tuco erupted into cheers. "And his opponent," the crowd went silent and suddenly many were leaning forward, "After a seven-month hiatus! She has returned! Ladies and Gentlemen! THEEE ASSASSIIIIIN!" Another side began to cheer as an Asian woman stepped into the arena. Dressed far less fancy than Daniel. She wore just a black sleeveless shirt that showed off her relatively skinny but toned looking arms. Black combat pants and boots. Her black hair was shaved on the left side and the rest of it was styled to the right. She held her short, more smoothly made, wooden sword resting on her shoulder.

Morgan thought she reminded her a bit of Fahrenheit back in Goodneighbor.

"Huh," Tuco said.

“What?" Sunny asked.

"A name like The Assassin, didn't expect someone so small." Tuco said shrugging.

"It's not the size, right?" Morgan said amused. Tuco gave a short laugh back.

Daniel passed his whip to someone above him, possibly his trainer. "Fighters!" The announcer started again, "Are you ready?!" K and Daniel nodded. "BEGIN!"

Dan charged forward roaring, expecting K to flinch or shrink back, instead she side stepped him and let him collide into the wall behind her. The crowd exclaimed in surprise and cringed in secondhand embarrassment. He punched against the wall in frustration and turned back to K. She nodded down as if saying, "Come on, then." He nodded back and lunged forward, swinging wildly. She dodged every swing easily, not looking like she was making any real effort to do so. And never once trying to swing back. After a moment she sidestepped him again and pushed into a wall with her foot. The crowd began to laugh, and Morgan thought she could see a faint smirk on the woman's face. She put her arms out, challenging him again. He bared his teeth and took his sword in both hands, he swung hard as if swinging a bat and this time K did attack. She ducked, dodging his swing and returning with her own. Hitting him in the shin of his leg and knocking him down hard, then bringing her own sword down in a stabbing motion on his back, but not hitting him hard. The horn signalling a match's end went off again.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the voice started up again,"your winner-"

"NOOO!" Daniel's voice cried out, loud enough so that everyone heard and succeeding in cutting off the announcer. He stood up, rubbing his shin. "I'm not giving up my title to some descendant of Commie trash!" K didn't look annoyed or offended, just amused. He pointed his weapon at her, "we go for real. To the death! You accept?!"

K looked behind her. Morgan could tell it was someone in the crowd. She leaned over in her seat as far as she could without falling off the edge to see who it was. It was a young man with glasses smoking a cigarette. She couldn't really make out the details of his face.

"Well?!" Distinguished Daniel shouted again. The crowd sat quietly in anticipation and the band began a drum roll.

K just stared off at the young man, until finally, almost reluctantly he nodded. He pulled something out from under his seat and threw it at her. The band stopped the drum roll and began to play something slower and more brutal almost in bloodthirsty anticipation. It was a short sword like the wooden one she was using. She caught it. Tossing the fake one back out. Daniel looked to be smiling. He tapped on his side as his people handed him his sword.

"Looks like we have a death match!" The voice called out again to loud cheers and whoops. Some of the people who had left before were back in their seats. "We will now open up betting for 30 seconds. Shout if you have a bet to place!" Numbers started to be called out. Thirty, fifty, eighty, one bet went as high as two hundred on Dan.

Bingo. Morgan thought. She stood up and shouted as loud as she could, "Five hundred caps on The Assassin!" The entire audience went dead quiet, even the band stopped playing. K looked up at her, brow furrowed and head cocked in confusion. Exactly what Morgan wanted. The young man in the glasses leaned over almost falling into the arena to get a good look at her, cigarette still in his mouth. Morgan thought she could see him mouth, “what the fuck.” Daniel and his people were staring wide-eyed and mouths agape like idiots.

Tuco gave her a confused look while Sunny just sat there in disbelief at how she was betting all their caps. No one called any other bets for the rest of the time. After a moment the announcer began again.

"Uh," he cleared his throat, "Th-thank you for your bets Ladies and Gentlemen! Someone will be by to confirm them shortly!"

Tuco nudged Morgan, "What the fuck are you thinking?!

Before Morgan could answer, a short pretty woman with pink hair, a high-pitched voice, and empty look in her eyes was accosting her. "Hello there, ma'am. You are the one who bet five hundred on K also known as The Assassin, yes?"

Morgan nodded.

"Wonderful," Pink Hair said with a big smile, "do you have it on you right now?"

"No, not with me at the moment."

Pink Hair gave an exaggerated frown and put on a cartoonishly sad voice, "Oh I was hoping you wouldn't say that! Hold out your hand, please."

Morgan did as she was told, reluctantly. Something about this woman was unsettling and she didn't want to see her angry. Pink Hair slapped a thick metal bracelet that beeped when it locked on. Suddenly people around them backed away conspicuously. Morgan cleared her throat, "What's this?"

"Insurance," Pink Hair said, never losing the smile, "If K loses, don't try to run. Otherwise this device will blow your fucking arm off."

"What?!" Sunny, and Tuco said at once. Even Cheyenne let out a worried whine.

"Best of luck!" Pink Hair said and she sauntered away.

Morgan stared at it. Death locked around her wrist. She looked at Sunny and Tuco and tried to give a confident smile. She hoped it was convincing and that K was who she thought she was.  
  
Down below the young man in K's corner whispered something in her ear. K nodded, he tapped her on the shoulder and made his leave. K and Daniel got in their ready positions, real swords in hand.

"FIGHTERS! ARE! YOU! READY?!"

The fighters nodded.

"BEGIN!"

The drums began again. Playing a loud, brutal, and slow beat. The crowd cheered. Everyone including Morgan, Tuco, and Sunny leaned forward, anxious to see what would happen.

The fight was over before anyone knew what happened. Daniel lunged, K sidestepped. Just like before except this time, she took Dan's hand when she did it. An awed sound exploded from the crowd. Daniel, not really registering what had just happened, turned looking like he was going to try to punch K. And in one more swift movement, she removed his head. His body fell forward unceremoniously, flopping on the ground.

A silence filled the arena, so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. The band didn't play, the crowd didn't cheer, even the announcer seemed to be stuck in the same shocked silence. Above them, The Pastor let out a breath she had no idea she'd been holding

 

* * *

 

"Congratulations on your winnings! You must be so-" is how far Pink Hair got before Morgan was pushing the device right in front of her face.

"Get this fucking thing off my wrist and give me my caps, NOW!" Morgan said.

An insulted vibe crossed Pink Hair's eyes before she resumed smiling, "But of course!" In one swift motion she unlocked the device and then handed Morgan a large satchel full of caps. "Careful not to get murdered for it on the way home!" She gave her cutest smile possible, and before Morgan could realize what had happened, Pink Hair planted a small kiss on her lips, and sauntered off again.

Morgan stood there, unsure of what had just happened.

"Is it weird that I thought she was kinda hot?" Asked Tuco somewhat sheepishly.

Sunny and Morgan just looked at him with a mix of disgust and discomfort. "Something really wrong with you." Sunny said.

“Hey, Pastor," a voice behind them said. They turned around and saw K there, in her in-ring attire, only now with a worn-out leather jacket on, "We need to talk. Marv's in 20 minutes." And before Morgan could say anything else, she had turned and walked out the door.

Tuco spoke up first, "Sure hope you know what you're doin’."

"Me too." Sunny agreed.

"Trust me." She replied. And they headed out.

* * *

  
Eighteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, they were outside of Marv's. Along the way, Morgan had explained to Tuco and Sunny what she knew, and what the plan was. They listened, been so shocked that at one point Tuco had been ready to bail on the whole thing, but Morgan had been able to bring him back around. After all, she had been able to back up every bit of that confident vibe gave off. For one reason or another, they trusted her. It had only been a day, and so far, she had defused a hostage situation, made them a small fortune, and if she was right, about to get one or two more reliable people for the cause.

"You guys ready?" She asked as they stood in front of the door.

Tuco and Sunny nodded while Cheyenne barked confidently. She took a breath and knocked on the door. Nothing. She knocked again. And after another moment, they heard a lock come undone and a voice came through an intercom.

"Come on in." It was K.

"Okay." Morgan said. And she opened the door and went through, Tuco, Sunny, and Cheyenne following.

The inside of Marv's looked almost like a vault. The walls were made of a thick, mostly clean and unrusted metal, there was a large counter with three big computer monitors, above the counter and on some of the walls were some small automatic turrets. Morgan couldn't tell what they fired. They were inconspicuous like the ones back in the Commonwealth. The floor was made of some black and white, dirty tile. Behind the counter, past the monitors was some state-of-the-art electronic equipment. Some of it even looked like it was Old World. There were plasma and laser rifles and bits and pieces of them strewn in the background on some tables. There were also pieces of various robots. Assaultron, Mister Gutsy, Robobrain, even what looked like some Sentry bot pieces and weapons. Morgan whistled.

"Whoa," Tuco said impressed.

"Right?" Sunny agreed.

K stepped out of a room in the back. Her jacket off. She looked like she had just been running water through her hair, it was damp. "Isaac! They're here!" She called out. Keeping her eyes trained on them. She was suspicious, Morgan knew that much, but how much exactly did she think they knew?

"Coming!" They heard a voice call out. And a few moments later, the young man Morgan had seen at the arena came down some stairs. He had that tan skin everyone in the Mojave Wasteland seemed to have along with some dark and long shaggy hair, not too long, it didn't even cover his ears. His glasses were round and thick rimmed. He wore what looked like an Old World army fatigue shirt loosely and some black work pants with various pockets. He walked over to a table and picked up a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out. He put it to his mouth and lit it, "So," he began as he walked over to his chair behind the monitors, "the mysterious Pastor...and friends?" He sat down in his chair and pushed a button. The monitors separated so he could get a good look at them while sitting down.

"Morgan," she said as she pointed to herself, then to Tuco and Sunny, "Tuco, Sunny," and then finally Cheyenne, "Cheyenne." Tuco nodded, Sunny gave a half wave, and Cheyenne barked.

"Isaac," he pointed to himself and then to K," and you know K. Introductions made. So..." He motioned to K.

"Let's talk." She said.

"About what?" Morgan said coyly.

K furrowed her brow in irritated confusion, "About how you just made about five thousand caps off of my winning tonight and how you're going to split that with me and Isaac."

"Oh that," Morgan started, mock hitting herself on the head as if she just realized something, "and here I thought we were going to talk about how you won that fight under false pretenses!"

K's jaw tightened, "What false pretenses?"

In the corner of her eye, she saw Isaac putting his cigarette down very slowly, "Oh you know, the false pretenses being that you're human. When in reality, you're a synth."

In an instant just about everyone had a gun drawn. Tuco had his shotgun drawn on Isaac while Isaac had a very heavily modified plasma sniper rifle trained on him. Sunny had her hunting rifle on K while K had her own automatic laser pistol trained on Sunny. Cheyenne was growling. The only one who didn't have their gun trained on anyone was Morgan. She had That Gun out, but it wasn't trained on anyone. She had her hands in the air like someone surrendering and gun hanging harmlessly off her index finger.

"Goddammit, they know! " Isaac said with a sharp edge in her voice. "What do we do?"

"Wait," she replied, "think for a second. If they were with Them, we'd have been invaded by now."

Morgan thought for a moment, “Look at my hands. We're not here to turn you in anywhere."

"Then have your friends put their guns down." K said.

"There's no guarantee you won't kill us if they do." Morgan replied.

Isaac sighed, "I'm sure you've noticed the turrets, you shoot us, they go off. So, trust me, it's a good idea for you to put your guns down."

"Not happening." Tuco replied quickly.

"Then we're at an impasse, soldier-boy." Isaac said.

Tuco began to reply to that but The Pastor cut him off, "There’s no need for this," Morgan said, "let’s just talk for a minute."

"About what?" K asked incredulously.

"Like why'd you leave The Commonwealth? There was no reason to be scared anymore if you had escaped The Institute."

"What are you talking about?" K asked. "As long as The Institute exists, I'll always have a reason to be scared."

Realization dawned on Morgan, "You don't know..."

"Don't know what?" K asked. "What are you talking about?" She gripped her gun tighter, resting her finger on the trigger.

"K," Morgan said, then she dropped her gun on the ground, to really hit the point home, "there is no more Institute." She said it softly, in her motherly voice.

K looked her over, stunned. "Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit. I swear."

"How did it happen then? Who did it?"

"Well... I did."

"Come on..."

"No, really. I was in The Railroad. I went undercover. Earned Father's trust. Led a mass rebellion with the synths that wanted to leave. Killed all the scientists..." she paused for a moment as the next painful memory hit her hard. So hard a tear nearly escaped her eye, but her face stayed stoic, "I killed Father."

K gasped, she paused for a moment. Stayed quiet a little too long, processing all this.

Isaac looked at her, concerned, "K? You still with me? You buying this?"

She held her free hand up, trying to think. "I knew Father's name." Oh no. "If you got that deep into his inner circle then you knew it, too. What was it? What was Father's name?"

Morgan exhaled. She hadn't said it in so long. Hadn't thought it in almost a year. The name of the Head of the Institute. Her son's name. "Shaun," she paused, "his name was Shaun and I killed him."

K looked her over. Searched for any kind of deception. Any kind of faltering in her expression or eyes. She saw none. Realized Morgan was telling the truth. "Oh fuck," K said, "It’s really true," she lowered her weapon.

Morgan lowered her hands and said nothing more.

K nodded, "Isaac, they're good. You can lower the gun."

So, he did. Then Sunny and Tuco did as well. They turned to Morgan who was picking up her gun and clearing her throat. "Yo," Tuco said, “you okay?"

Sunny wanted to ask but said nothing. Just looked at her curiously.

Morgan nodded and waved them off.

"So," K began, she had her hands on her hips, "obviously I owe you more than I can possibly repay. And I seriously doubt you went through all this just to give me the news. What do you need?"

"Yeah," Isaac said putting his rifle back in its spot, "you just took a huge weight off our shoulders, so whatever you need. Tech? A place to crash?"

"Not exactly," Morgan said, clearing her throat, "we need you for a suicide mission."

K and Isaac gave each other a look. A silent conversation passing between them. After a moment they looked back at their visitors, "Let's talk." Said the mechanical woman.


	4. Divide and Conquer

They were behind the counter inside Marv's, all seated at a table. Over the next hour, they laid the whole thing down to K and Isaac. The job, how they met, and how they had gotten here at their doorstep. Even the initial trio had to admit how insane it was that they had all known each other for less than a day.  
  
"Christ," Isaac said lighting another cigarette, "you must be exhausted." He inhaled deep.  
  
She scoffed and rubbed her eyes, "I won’t lie, I could use some rest. And maybe a drink," Morgan said.  
  
"Same," said Tuco.  
  
"Me, too." Said Sunny, with a yawn.  
  
"Well, all right," said Isaac, "let me go in the back and grab some glasses and the jug." He stood up and took another drag before exhaling, "I'll be right back." He walked out of the room humming something to himself.  
  
"K," Morgan said, getting the Synth's attention, "how did you get out of The Commonwealth without Railroad help before the Institute's destruction?"  
  
K took a breath. Morgan thought back for a second on everything she knew on Synths. Did they need to breathe? Or was that something taught? "Well," K started, "I had an advantage most other Synths didn't have at the time. I was free to leave and come back whenever I needed to."  
  
It dawned on Morgan, "You were a Courser, weren't you?"  
  
K nodded, "That's a bingo," she appraised Morgan, "you really were there." She said almost in wonder, “It's almost hard to believe."  
  
"Sorry," Sunny said, interjecting, "what's a Courser?" Tuco leaned in wanting to hear this as well.  
  
K looked to Morgan and back to the others, "A Courser is a special kind of Synth The Institute made. Others were designed to replace people and be spies for them, Coursers could do that, too. But we were mostly designed for killing." She paused, gauging Tuco and Sunny's reactions. Sunny looked intrigued and a little wary, but Tuco just looked fascinated. Morgan on the other hand just listened. "You know those Old World comics you can find lying around," she continued, "with the killer robots that look like people and wear sunglasses all the time?" They nodded, "That's basically what I and other Coursers were. Sunglasses included. Some of us, they didn't even bother trying to make like people, they just spoke in monotone voices and did what they were told. Others, like me, were all about infiltrating, identifying, sometimes interrogating, and then executing a target. It helped for me to be able to blend in."  
  
"Shit," Tuco said impressed.  
  
"Whoa," Sunny said almost breathlessly. In awe and a little nervous. Yesterday she only had to worry about asshole humans and wasteland critters, now there were robots that looked like people.  
  
"Well, I'm glad you're on our team," said Tuco, "wouldn't want to fight someone like you." He looked over in the direction that Isaac had gone in then looked back at K and leaned over to her and whispered, "What about him? He any good in a fight?" He said pointing in Isaac's direction.  
  
K looked him dead in the eye, but kept her tone light, "Trust me, we've had our fair share of scuffles, there's no one I'd rather have watching my back. Plus, you haven’t seen what he can do with all this tech," she said waving her hand around the room, "you'll be glad you brought us along. Besides, wherever I go, he goes."  
  
Tuco took it all in, not breaking the synth's gaze. "All right," he said leaning back, "I'll take your word for it." He looked over at Morgan.  
  
She nodded as well, "You're both in. Absolutely." She turned to Sunny, "You oughta count your blessings, Smiles," she said almost jovial, "you've gotten four professional killers working for you." Tuco cleared his throat, "well, three professional killers and Tuco." Laughter from all of them echoed throughout the store. It felt like a sweet release. Though it hadn't been long, the time they had known each other had weighed on all of them. It felt nice just to laugh. Just to enjoy a moment.  
  
Isaac walked in with a big glass jug filled with a dark, dangerous looking liquid and glasses for everyone. "What are we laughing," he said with a smile as he put it all down on the table, "what'd I miss?"  
  
"Ah nothing," Sunny said, "just the Pastor over here busting the Bartender's chops."  
  
"Ah yes," said Isaac as he filled each of their glasses with his whiskey, "the mysterious spy Pastor," he said as he handed a drink to Morgan who nodded in thanks, "a soldier-boy Bartender with a shotgun," he handed one to Tuco, he winked, "a woman who dreams of electric sheep, " to K, who rested her head on his arm for a moment, "me, a handsome tech genius and sharpshooter with a gooifying gun," everyone chuckled, "and the goodest girl in the Mojave," he pet Cheyenne, “what a weird group of people you’ve brought together, Ms. Smiles,” then he handed her a glass and raised his, the others following suit, “here’s to doing you proud.”  
  
"Cheers!" They all echoed and downed their drinks.

* * *

  
  
The next day, after a fair amount of water and some breakfast, they went over their next moves.  
  
"All right," said Morgan while sipping on some water, "we have just under three weeks before the big bad returns to Goodsprings. Not nearly enough time to assemble an army. But we've been pretty lucky so far. I think just a few more people and we should be good to go. I'm new to the area so anyone have any ideas? Heard of anyone who might be willing help? Tuco? Guys?"  
  
The rest sat around the table with their thinking caps on. It was an almost humorous sight to Morgan. All these hardened individuals, who probably had large body counts under their belts, just sitting around with hard thoughtful expressions on their faces. Almost like kids when they can't figure out a math problem.  
  
"Hold on!" K said suddenly, and turned to Isaac, "Remember Grady?"  
  
Isaac waited a moment, "The Bounty Hunter. Yeah, used to be with the NCR. I remember seeing a bunch of medals and what-nota on her walls when I was wiring the turrets to her computer."  
  
"Former NCR?" Asked Tuco. Perking up a bit  
  
K nodded, "Yeah. She is good at her work, too."  
  
"What makes you say that?" Asked Sunny.  
  
"Because of the exorbitant fee she charges for jobs. And that’s saying something, our security fees are expensive as hell.” Said Isaac.  
  
"Well," Morgan started, "we should be able to afford her, we did just win a lot of money. But do you think she'd accept a job like this?"  
  
"A lot of NCR types sign up because they want to do some good," said Isaac, "suicide missions might not be that big a deal to her. Plus, as expensive as the work we did for her was, we did give her a discount, didn't seem right to charge a vet up the ass, you know?" Everyone nodded, but Tuco especially seemed to really approve of this notion.  
  
"Where's she live?" Asked Tuco.  
  
"In a shack close to Vault 34." Replied Isaac.  
  
"Where's that?" Asked Morgan.  
  
"Here," said Isaac, a cigarette in his mouth, grabbing her arm and bring her Pip-boy up on the table, "go to your map."  
  
"Oh shit," cursed Morgan, "this thing is fucked, I have to manually update the map anytime I enter a new state."  
  
"Oh, well here," said Isaac undoing the clasp and taking it off, "I'll fix that. Won't take but a sec." He walked over to his monitor and typed something on the keyboard. He pulled a little device out of the drawer under the counter and plugged it in. Three little beeps later, he unplugged it and handed it to Morgan, "Should be good as new."  
  
Morgan activated it and saw that the map was working again. Telling her where she was and where various merchants, settlements, and other interesting locations could be found. "Much obliged."  
  
Isaac led a finger on the screen, "Ok see here? That's Vault 34, the woman we're talking about is around here." And he pointed slightly north of it.  
  
"Great," she said, she looked a little further down and recognized the name of the Grub N Gulp, "okay," she said standing up and addressing everyone, "So here's what we're going to do," she pointed at Sunny, "Sunny, you're going with K and Isaac to meet this bounty hunter." Sunny, K, and Isaac nodded.  
  
"What are you and I doing?" Asked Tuco.  
  
"I have some stuff stashed past 34 and near Grub and Gulp, in an abandoned shack. Stuff we'll need."  
  
"Oh!" Isaac said suddenly as if he just remembered something," speaking of stuff we'll need," he nudged at Sunny, a mischievous smile on his face, "hey Sunny, ever ridden in a truck before?"  
  
Sunny turned to him and asked out loud, what everyone else was asking with their faces, "You have a truck? That works?"  
  
"Yeah," he said happily," K and I fixed it up and got it working earlier this year."  
  
"I have been next to you longer than that," said Tuco with his hands on his hips, "and I have never once seen this thing."  
  
"We don't keep it here," said K, "we keep it stashed outside the city, surrounded by all sorts of traps and security."  
  
Tuco turned to Morgan, a mock puppy dog like look on his face, "Pastor, can I-"  
  
"No, Tuco, I need you with me. You can see the truck when they meet up with us after they're done with the bounty hunter." Tuco put his head down in an exaggerated fashion, like a boy having a temper tantrum. "All right," Morgan continued, "anything else?" No one said anything. "Then, let's do this."  


* * *

  
Sunny's heart was racing, she was unsure if it was fear or excitement or both. She had never gone this fast anywhere in her life, though Isaac insisted it wasn't that fast, only 35 miles an hour, he said. But to her it seemed a lot faster than that, not that she had much to compare it to.  
  
She couldn't fathom how K was in the back with nothing to hold her down so calm. Then again, she reminded herself, K wasn't human. Sunny didn't know if she'd ever get used to that. Cheyenne on the other hand was having the time of her life. Her head out the window, mouth open, and tongue dangling out.

Tuco and Morgan had elected to walk or rather, Isaac told them that between them and the stuff in the back, there was no space for everyone so they had to walk to wherever Morgan had stashed her things. They agreed, whether or not the bounty hunter had chosen to come with them, that they would wait an hour before going to the shack Morgan pointed out on her Pip-boy.

"How much further?!" Sunny yelled.

"You don't have to yell. Uh, from here?" He paused, thinking it over, "Not much longer. Matter of fact..." he stopped, squinting, "there it is!" Not too far ahead in the distance, there was a shack. "Come on," he said, getting out of the car, "we'll have to walk it from here."

"Wait," Sunny said, "why not just drive up to the shack?"

"Grady doesn't like the noise it makes. We're better off walking. Come on, Cheyenne!" He clapped, and she walked over Sunny to get out of the car.

Sunny, after a couple of failed attempts, managed to open her door and get out, while K jumped off the back. "I'll stay with the truck?" K asked.

"Yeah," Isaac said, rummaging through the back to grab his plasma rifle, "keep an eye out. Anyone comes for the truck or you, drive towards Tuco and Morgan, we'll wait for you to come back." He grabbed it and stuck a plasma cartridge in it. He turned to K, and gave her shoulder a squeeze, she returned it and nodded. He turned to Sunny, "Let's do this, boss." And they started to walk towards the shack.

Sunny looked at Cheyenne who was dutifully following her, and then back to K, "Cheyenne, stay with the truck. Help her keep it safe." Cheyenne barked affirmatively and headed back to K.

Isaac looked back, and then straight ahead again, "That was nice of you. Good idea for her to have some company out here."

Sunny nodded and looked in his direction, a questioning look on her face, "How did you two meet up anyway? You seem real close."

"Yeah, we are," said Isaac, "love that girl," he smiled, "we met a couple of years back. Actually, it was my uncle. He found her wandering the wastes out here, dressed all in black with sunglasses on, she seemed dazed." He shook his head at the memory, "he brought her back to the Old Mormon Fort. One of the doctors recognized what she was, apparently he had spent some time in the Commonwealth. Weird thing, after that we never saw him again. He just vanished. Well, anyway after that my uncle brought her back to our shop. We worked on her for hours. Finally, we found that something had gone wrong with an integral chip. We guessed that she'd had some shoddy work done and now maybe I'm thinking, it probably had something to do with being cut off from The Institute when Morgan blew it up. Either way, we fixed it, flipped her back on, and she came back to life like someone had just injected her with Psycho."

"Jesus," said Sunny breathlessly.

"Yeah," he replied, rubbing the back of his head and letting his rifle drop to his side, "we explained what had happened and she got real emotional. Saying that we had cut off her link back to the Institute and thanked us. Not long after, my uncle died. It was his shop, actually, Marv's."

"I'm sorry." Said Sunny, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks," he said, "anyway, after that we had to learn to live with each other. She found a way to put her skills to use. Over at the fight club. We used her winnings to get better tools and parts and improve our business. We've had a good working deal ever since."

"Wow," said Sunny said, "and before all this, the craziest I had to deal with was some geckos. Oh, and that time me, The Courier, and the town fought off some Powder Gangers."

"Wait," said Isaac stopping in his tracks, "you know The Courier?"

Sunny sighed heavily, "Knew The Courier, we're not speaking."  
  
"Oh," he said, paused for a moment and then pressed the issue, "why aren't you speaking?"

"Because," she said irritably, "she turned her back on me and Goodsprings when we're the reason she's alive and running the fucking Mojave in the first place!" She growled and kicked a rock away.

"Shit," Isaac said, sympathizing, "that's rough, I'm sorry."

Sunny sighed again, "It's fine. Besides," she said looking in his direction, "if she hadn't turned me down, I wouldn't have met any of you guys."

"Well, don't get too attached," he said," I doubt this will all end with us alive and in one piece ... but thanks anyway!" He said with a smile. Sunny smiled back. And then he stopped. "We're here." He said as he motioned in front of him.

In front of them was a simple looking shack with a front yard, closed off by a minimal wooden fence that only came up to their waists. The shack itself wasn't that big. Enough for one person and maybe a guest. Two windows on opposite sides of a door in the middle, and under the windows were two wooden box-like compartments sticking out of the wall. Isaac pointed to them and mouthed the word, "turrets." Sunny nodded in understanding.

Isaac put his rifle down, resting it against the fence. Sunny did the same "Miss Grady!" He shouted while putting his hands in the air, "you home?"

The front door opened so fast and so hard that for a second, they thought it was a gunshot and ducked instinctively. Sunny reached for her rifle but Isaac shook his head at her. They stood back up to see an older woman standing in front of the door. She looked to be about fifty or so years old, though Isaac and K had never felt the need to ask. A striking woman. The greying streak that went through her dark hair gave her away as well as added to her intimidating appearance. Everything about her made her look like something out of an old western movie. Her cowboy boots, jeans, brahmin leather vest, dark shirt, black cowboy hat, and brush rifle. Which she flip-cocked and aimed at Sunny and Isaac with a grace and ease that would have made Old World southern belles faint. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" She asked.

Isaac furrowed his brow in confusion, she wasn't so old her memory was going? "Uh, Miss Grady, I'm Isaac. K and I worked on your security system."

"Not you, dummy!" She said irritably, clearly not enjoying this intrusion on her day, "The adorable one next to you!"

"Adorable?" Sunny said sounding offended.

Isaac ignored it, "Oh! This is Sunny! She'd like to hire you. You are a bounty hunter, right?"

Grady lowered her gun a bit, "Oh, hell," she said, "yes I gun down and bring fools in for caps. But I'm not taking jobs right now. I'm on vacation. You go on, now!" She let her rifle fall to her side and made to go back into her shack.

"Wait!" Sunny yelled desperately, Grady stopped and turned around, rolling her eyes, "We've got a lot of caps, won't you at least hear us out?"

"Yeah!" Said Isaac. "At least let us come in and let me check out the system, make sure it's all running smoothly. We can talk while I do that!"

The older woman grumbled a bit to herself, "Oh fine," she said finally, "you and the cute one can come in. Just gimme a second to turn off the mines and turrets." And she walked inside, leaving the door open.

Sunny and Isaac lowered their hands and bent down to collect their weapons, "Cute? Adorable?" Sunny mumbled.

“To be fair," Isaac began, lifting his weapon, "you are both those things." Sunny shot him an angry look. While Isaac just shrugged, "You do realize your name is actually 'Sunny Smiles' right?" Sunny began to say something, but then just shut her mouth.

"It’s off! Come on in!" They heard Grady yell.

"Let's do this." Said Isaac.

"Goddammit." He heard Sunny grumble behind him.

The inside of Grady's shack was very much like the outside and the woman herself: simple and practical. With a hint of showmanship. Her bed, her kitchen, her desk with the computer, and her armory were all in what would have been in any other home, the living room. There was one door in the very left corner that Sunny assumed was her bathroom. There was a couch on the right side of the room under a window, and an arm chair on the other side by the other. The desk with the computer was to your right as you entered the room and on the left was a locker with a serious collection of guns and armor. The center of the room had a simple, yet very nice rug that pulled everything together. Next to the sofa was a small kitchen and a table that could seat two people at the most. It was obvious she had been alone for a long time and had liked it that way. The bed was in the center against the back wall and had a footlocker inside which one would assume had maybe four outfits total. Along the wall next to the bed were some medals from her time in the NCR and even one photograph of her in the NCR Rangers combat armor and hat. Next to a man and smiling.

"Go on," said Grady, "make yourself comfortable." She turned to Isaac, "Ah-ah, not you. You said you'd look at my system. Make sure it's tip top. You do that."

Isaac raised his eyebrows and his hands in defeat. "Yes ma'am." He went to her computer and began typing away. Checking the diagnostics of the equipment.

Grady took her hat off and set it down on a little table next to her couch. She pointed at Sunny as she walked towards another table with some bottles on it, "You, honey," she said, "want a drink?"

She did a double take, unsure she had heard correctly, "Uh Sunny. And no thanks."

"Yeah I know," said Grady, "suit yourself. Isaac," she continued, and looked toward his direction, "I got whiskey and tequila. You want one when you're done?"

"Sure, whiskey," he said while looking through the code on the computer,

 "I'd take one if I were you, Sunny. She's got good stuff."

Grady looked at Sunny and cocked her head expectantly, a wry smile on her face, "All right, some tequila." Said Sunny.

Grady pointed and winked at Sunny approvingly, "There ya go!" She said. She began to pour each of them a drink. Once she was done, she walked across the room and placed Isaac's on the desk he was sitting at. He waved his hand in a thank you motion. Grady then handed Sunny her tequila, who nodded her thanks, then sat down on the couch at the opposite end, crossing her legs casually. "Okay," she said after taking a sip, "tell me about this job."

"Well," started Sunny, she then downed her glass in one gulp and shuddered, much to Grady's surprise and awe, "it's a long story."

* * *

Sometime after Sunny had finished telling Grady the story, Tuco and Morgan were almost to the shack Morgan had described to the others. It was about noon now, and the sun was very high in the sky, the heat bearing down on them. Sweat glistened on their foreheads and if it hadn't been for the water they carried, their thirst would have been unbearable. Tuco had opened his jumpsuit and tied the sleeves around his waist, leaving only a dirty white sleeveless shirt on. Morgan had rolled up her sleeves, but had elected to keep on the vestment. As she had told Tuco, she didn't have a shirt on underneath.

 "Oh man," she said, "I don't know how the hell," she took a breath, "you deal with this damn heat."

Tuco shrugged, "Grew up here. Just get used to it." He looked over at her, "It doesn't get this hot in Boston?

She shook her head, "Not like this, "she removed her fedora to wipe her forehead with a rag then replaced it, "I mean it's hot everywhere, the bombs made sure of that, but it's mostly cold over in Boston. Still rains a lot. But not as much as it used to."

Tuco furrowed his brow, slightly confused, "Shouldn't it be raining more? I mean, world's still fucked, but it's getting better little by little, no?"

Morgan looked off to the right, pretending something had caught her attention, she wasn't sure she needed to spring the whole frozen for two-hundred years deal just yet, "No, I meant before the war," she looked back at his confused face, "I read in an Old World book that the weather in Boston used to be really rainy depending on the year."

"Oh, okay." Tuco said, accepting the explanation, "Hey, uh I've been meaning to ask," she turned and looked at him questioningly, he wanted to ask more about The Institute and her connection to it, but he had seen how emotional she had gotten when talking about it to K, so he decided against it, "what's with the religious outfit? I know you ain't ordained."

She looked at him, amused, "What gave it away?"

He smiled, "Your bad language."

She laughed hard at that. Tuco found that he enjoyed her laugh. Some women, especially in Vegas, found a need to make their laughs quieter and give it a tee-hee quality like Pink Hair had, Morgan had no such qualms. Happy to laugh loud and hard. "Well," she said clearing her throat, "I've got people looking for me." Tuco raised an eyebrow, "No one trying to kill me or anything. At least not that many. But people who care about me. People who want me back in the Commonwealth and uh...I don't want them to find me. This," she gestured to the getup, "is not something I would have been seen wearing back in Boston."

Tuco nodded, "So who are these people? And why don't you want them to find you if they don't want to kill you?"

She grimaced a bit, "I uh would rather not talk about it," she looked in his direction, "you know how it is."

"Yeah, I do."

They moved quietly together for the next ten minutes. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but an understanding one. They looked around in various directions as they made their way towards the shack, which they were now closing in on. Keeping an eye out for any Wasteland critters or raiders. Morgan had left T with a command that anyone who try to steal it, be wounded slightly and to increase aggression depending on how hard they were trying. So far, she didn't see any bodies or blood. She took that as a sign that T had remained undisturbed. "All right, there it is." She said pointing at the shack just about fifteen feet ahead. She picked up the pace a little and Tuco followed.

"So, what are we picking up?" He said jogging behind her.

"Oh. you'll see," she said walking in the doorway, "you're gonna like th-" she and Tuco both stopped dead in their tracks at the sound of a growl inside the shack. Morgan pulled out her gun and aimed it in the direction it had come from. The corner of the room. "Oh shit."

* * *

  
Grady whistled long and exaggeratedly. "Wow," she stood up and grabbed everyone's glasses, which were all empty at this point. Isaac had finished running the diagnostics about halfway through Sunny's story, and like everyone else, had finished a glasse by the time it was done, or two in Sunny's case. Grady filled them all up and passed them out again, each guest nodding a thanks. She sat down and sipped a bit before speaking, "So after your town thrived and grew, some asshole and his goons took over and are sucking it dry. When you tried to fight back, they killed some of you including a close friend you've known all your life.” She took another sip and continued, "So you went off into the Wasteland with no one but your dog to look for some killers to help you take back this town of yours and kill the asshole who took it over?"

"That's about the size of it, yeah." Said Sunny, starting to slur her words a bit. Grady looked towards Isaac who was nodding.

"This guy, Malcolm?" Grady said. "He sounds like a bully. If there's one thing I hate in this world it's a Goddamn bully," she emphasized the point by jabbing her finger even with the glass in her hand, she downed a bit more and continued, "I'm in, darlin'. Free of charge."

Isaac nearly choked on his drink, it took every ounce of willpower and some fear of what Grady would do if he got anything on her floor or rug, not to spit any of it out. He gulped it down and began to cough, meanwhile Sunny just sat there mouth open in disbelief. "God damn, Smiles," Isaac said clearing his throat, "what kind of luck do you have?"

"I have no idea," she said. She downed a bit more of her tequila, "Why are you doing this free of charge? Hating bullies can't be the only reason."

"I'm not gonna be so fucking cheesy and say you've stolen my heart or something," said Grady with a smirk, "but I will say that you are Goddamn earnest! I couldn't say no to you if I tried!" There was a collective buzz in the room now and everyone was feeling it. Grady felt excited and it wasn't just the presence of Sunny. The idea of working with a team again had taken a hold of her, giving her flashbacks of her days back with the NCR. And it felt good to know that she was signing up for something selfless and righteous. The fact that she might die in a hail of gunfire like she had wanted back in her younger days held a little bit of intrigue for her as well. "Regardless of everything else though, do you have any idea how long it's been since I went on a suicide mission? Thought I'd never get the chance again, if anything I should be thanking you."

"Well," said Isaac raising his glass, "if someone had told me signing up for suicide missions involved this much drinking, I'd have signed up for one years ago."

"I doubt you would have met the age requirements, son." Said Grady while winking at Sunny.  
  
  
“Laugh it up, Grady,” Isaac said, “see who else you can get to check up on your security system.” Mock threateningly. 

"I don’t know what to say," Sunny said standing up, "I appreciate it a lot, Ms. Grady," she paused for a moment, "what's your first name by the way?"

Grady smiled. A heartfelt, genuine, and almost tender smile. As if she wasn't expecting the question but was pleased to have been asked. "Rosemary." She said softly.

And maybe it was the alcohol, Sunny wasn't entirely sure. But before she could do anything stop it, the tiniest hint of a blush crept up on her face.


	5. Outsiders

She tried her best not to make a sound and keep her breathing under control. Her aim steady. It was a super mutant. And it was the most unusual one Morgan and Tuco had ever seen. It was doing something that neither of them had ever seen a super mutant do. It was sleeping. The growling Morgan had thought she heard was in fact snoring. It was sitting in the darkest corner of the room, its legs spread out, a large bag in between them, it's hands on said bag. Morgan noted that it was also wearing clothes. Or at least, the closest thing she had seen them wear that resembled clothes. It wore a large black sack hood over its face, it covered the creature's shoulders and a bit of its arms like a poncho to keep out rain. It was all this, plus the fact that her robot was still in one piece and had not attacked, that convinced her not to unload That Gun all over the creature's face.  
  
She turned to Tuco and whispered, "Keep your gun trained on it, but don't fire. I'm gonna try something."  
  
Tuco's eyes widened, "What the hell does that mean?" He asked. "What are you gonna try?"  
  
"Just trust me." She said. She made her way over towards the super mutant, stepping as lightly as possible. Trying not to make any noise until the last possible second. The mutant stirred a little when a floorboard creaked and she had to turn and look at Tuco to warn him against firing. After shoving her hand back insistently a few times, to drive the point home, she kept walking forward. Her heart was thumping hard against her chest, she began to sweat, if she was wrong this was going to get very painful. She got right in front of the super mutant and aimed her gun inches from it's face. "Hey." She said good and loud.  
  
It grunted and stirred a little. A shudder passed through it's whole body and it yawned. It was awake. It raised it's head slowly as it realized that someone was in front of it. It started at Morgan's feet, passing her knees, her waist, and then finally locking on to the gun that was pointed right between it's eyes. It looked up further than that at the mysterious shadow figure holding it. It couldn't make out the face, but it knew the one holding the gun was human. It breathed once and then spoke, "Good afternoon." In the most non-mutant voice she had ever heard one speak with. Even Virgil spoke as if he was struggling. This was eloquent and human-like. It even had an accent.  
  
Morgan tried to process this as quickly as she could. She had figured it would grunt, or if it did speak, say something about her being a filthy human and how it would eat her. She certainly wasn't expecting a friendly greeting, "Uh hi." She said back.  
  
"Who are you?" The creature asked.  
  
She cocked her head slightly, still not quite believing this, "My name is Morgan. Who are you?"  
  
"Me?" It pointed to itself.  
  
She nodded.  
  
"You may call me Caliban" He pointed to himself to further accentuate the point.  
  
"Okay, Caliban. What brought you here?" Unknown to her, Tuco was desperately trying to get her attention behind her.  
  
"Same as you, I suppose, my feet did," Caliban said, "I’m a wanderer."  
  
“Wanderer huh,” Morgan cleared her throat, "How do you speak so well?"  
  
Caliban looked like he was thinking it over, "I... don’t know. I just woke up one day and here I was, in the Mojave Wasteland. A super mutant with human level intelligence. I’ve been trying to find that out myself." He looked down, almost sad.  
  
"Huh, that’s interesting. That robot over there?" Asked Morgan motioning with her head. Caliban nodded. "Why didn't it attack you?"  
  
“I avoided it, it must have sensed that I wasn’t a threat.”  
  
"So... you didn't hit it or try to break it?"  
  
"No, I don’t like violence. I was quite tired, so I just came in here to rest and get out of the sun."  
  
Morgan had told T to stay put and only attack if it came under attack, lest she come back to find her robot had accidentally killed some unlucky curious kid. Reluctantly and slowly Morgan lowered her gun from his face. If only she had seen the way Tuco had been freaking out behind her. "Are there any more of you?" She asked.  
  
Caliban made a low, sighing noise. "No, I’m the only one of my kind that I’ve met out here so far. I don’t know anything about the area and any others that I have run into just attack me as soon as they see me. I suppose I stick out.”    
  
Morgan squatted and got to eye level with him, "How long have you been on your own?"  
  
"Hmm,” he scrunched up his face and tapped on his head, “I suppose it’s been about a year, though I spent the first half of that in the lab I woke up in. Honestly, I’m tired. I just want to find somewhere I won’t be bothered.”    
  
The idea hit her like a runaway train. "I think I may know a place, actually. Sorry to say it will cost you, though."  
  
“Oh dear,” he said, warily, “what’s the price?”    
  
“I know you said you don’t like violence, but you can’t have survived out here for all this time without some fighting, am I wrong?”  
  
“Unfortunately not, it’s a savage world out there. I’ve had to end my fair share of lives. Why?”  
  
“See,” she began, somewhat reluctantly, “there’s a town being terrorized by some bad people. Me and a few associates,” she gestured to Tuco behind her, who had relaxed a little, “have been hired to stop them and help the townspeople out. You help us help them, I’m willing to bet you’ve got yourself a place to rest.”  
  
Caliban considered this, “Hmm, while I don’t like violence, I also know what it’s like to be bullied. I wouldn’t wish that upon anybody. And these people, this town, they are decent folks?”  
  
Morgan sighed, “Some of the last left on this earth.”  
  
Caliban nodded, “I’d like to meet them. Very well, Pastor. I will help you.”  
  
Morgan looked down at herself, “How’d you know what a Pastor is?”  
  
He tapped at his bag, “It’s filled with books. How do you think I learned to speak this way?”  


* * *

  
  
K, Isaac, Sunny, Cheyenne, and Grady arrived about an hour later, with K driving the truck. Sunny and Cheyenne rode up front with K, while Isaac and Grady hung on to the back. Grady had no problem with this as according to her, she had ridden a lot bigger in her NCR days.  
  
Morgan had to take a moment. It had literally been centuries since she'd seen a working automobile. True, this one looked like absolutely no one should be driving it, but to see one working nonetheless, it almost brought a tear to her eye. And had Tuco in a state of complete awe. Almost before he was able to get off the truck completely, Tuco had begun badgering Isaac with questions. Morgan ignored that and went to K, "What happened? I thought he was driving." She said pointing to Isaac.  
  
"Well," K said slightly irritably, "he did drive over to Grady's shack, but genius over there had a few too many drinks with the two ladies and didn't feel safe getting behind the wheel."  
  
"Huh," said Morgan, "that's pretty smart of him, driving drunk is dangerous." She looked around to the woman with the cowboy hat climbing off the back and nodded in her direction, "that our newest recruit?"  
  
"Yeah," said K while turning in her direction, "hey Grady! Come meet the organizer!" She turned back to Morgan, "She's here because she has a crush on Sunny." She said with a wry smile as she walked back to the truck.  
  
"Really," Morgan said, in disbelief at how amusing she found this, "that's hilarious. But kinda sweet."  
  
Grady walked over with an infectious confidence in her walk, "Pastor outfit, you must be the one putting this whole party together," she put her hand out to Morgan with a smile on her face, "Rosemary Grady, former NCR Ranger, at your service."  
  
Morgan took her hand and gripped it strong, remembering what Nate had told her about military types, "Pastor Morgan, good to meet ya," she said with a smile of her own.  
  
Grady looked impressed, "Ooh, strong grip. I like you, Pastor Morgan," she looked around at the rest, "this is quite an interesting group you've put together. Can't wait to see what we can do."  
  
"Save a town, hopefully," Morgan replied, her tone light, she looked over to Sunny who was playing with Cheyenne. "Though I hear it was the shine you took to our young boss that brought you to us."  
  
Rosemary barked a laugh, "This is just like the military, no one can keep a secret. God, I love it!" She clapped once, the woman's enthusiasm making Morgan laugh along with her, "Yeah, that one's a reason." She turned and gestured at Sunny, "I mean, I just couldn't say no to that face. You know what I mean?"  
  
"Actually," Morgan said with all honesty, "I do know what you mean. I couldn't say no to that face either. She's kind of adorable." At this Rosemary began to laugh good and hard.  
  
Sunny by the truck flipped off Morgan, "Fuck you, Pastor! That is not becoming a thing!"  
  
Behind her Isaac yelled, "It already is a thing, Smiles!" To which Sunny responded by walking over and punching him hard in the arm. "Ow! Goddamn, you're stronger than you look!" He said as he rubbed his arm.  
  
"So!" K called out from the truck, "You guys find your stuff? Anything interesting happen while we were at the shack?"  
  
Tuco turned and looked at Morgan with a gaze that said, you tell them. She cleared her throat as she began, "Yeah. Listen up, guys. We found my stash," she said addressing everyone. Everyone stopped what they were doing to listen, "It's all here in the robot," she whistled and T came out, to the sound of Isaac making an awed noise and to everyone but K making disbelieving faces, "and we've got another recruit."  
  
Sunny stood up straighter, "No shit?"  
  
"No shit," replied Morgan.  
  
"Well, where are they?" Sunny asked, excited.  
  
"Well uh, they're inside the shack. But before I call them out," Morgan said taking off her sunglasses to let them know she was serious, "I'm gonna need everyone to put their weapons away."

 

* * *

  
  
To say that Caliban's arrival had caused a commotion would be a massive understatement. First Morgan had everyone put their weapons in the back of the truck, then had them promise that they wouldn't freak out, then assured them that there was nothing to worry about. But when Caliban did appear out of the shack, it went bad. Not as bad as Morgan expected, but bad. First, when he appeared Isaac and Grady shouted a curse simultaneously and loudly, then K got into a fighting stance, Sunny had backed away going for where she had put her varmint rifle, it took both Tuco and Morgan shouting over everyone to shut them up. Morgan realized what a mistake it was not to tell them beforehand. Caliban strangely didn't seem offended by any of this. If anything he looked pleased. It took a few minutes to calm everyone down. All told, the whole debacle lasted about ten minutes. But by the time it was done, everyone had calmed down and Caliban had introduced himself. Then one by one, everyone talked with him a little, to get comfortable. When it was all over Caliban stood alone quietly for a while.  
  
"Strange," Caliban said at one point.  
  
"What's that?" Tuco asked.  
  
"Strange," he said turning to Tuco, "I’ve never been around so many others that didn’t want to terminate me."  
  
"Well," Sunny said, closing in and putting her hand on his arm, he looked down at her surprised, but not reeling back from the touch, "thank you for helping us, Caliban." He simply nodded back.  
  
"Hey, Pastor," Isaac said, motioning her over towards the truck, she followed him over and nodded upwards asking the question, "we have a slight problem."  
  
"What kinda problem?"  
  
Isaac sighed, "Between the truck, the robot, and the Caliban," he said motioning behind him, "we're gonna have some trouble getting back to Goodsprings without someone either shooting at the big guy or trying to take the robot or the truck. It probably wouldn't be too much of a problem, but according to Sunny, we're gonna have a hell of fight coming our way, we're gonna need our ammo."  
  
"Yeah," she said nodding, "dammit. Any ideas?"  
  
"No ideas, only one option." He rubbed the back of his head. "We're gonna have to lay low in the day time, and travel by night. And only a few of us at a time are going to be able to go to settlements or posts for supplies."  
  
"Shit," Morgan said sharply and under her breath, "Sunny's not gonna like that."  
  
"I don't have enough stealth boys to make us all invisible till we get there, do you?"  
  
"No, I do not."

* * *

  
They moved under the cover of darkness for two nights, avoiding settlements almost entirely. Not being able to fit everyone on the truck, they developed a shift system. The truck moving slow enough to match everyone's walking speed, K, Isaac, Morgan, and Grady would switch every hour driving and everyone else would switch between who got to sit on parts of the truck. Caliban, being too big, was unable to ever ride the truck, but he didn't mind. Seeing as how he didn't get as tired as quickly as humans did. Cheyenne was the unofficial guard dog 24 hours. Alerting everybody before a Wasteland creature showed up. Another thing everyone took turns with was distracting Sunny. She was anxious to get back to Goodsprings soon. In reality, she was grateful, as finding everybody had been a lot easier than she thought it would be. But she did worry about Trudy, Doc Mitchell, hell even Chet, that asshole. Everyone kept each other occupied somehow. K and Morgan talked about the Commonwealth, Isaac and Tuco talked about the truck, Grady got to know Sunny, and just about everyone took turns talking to Caliban. Throughout all of this. No one ever caught on to the person following them.  
  
On the third morning, they arrived to what appeared to be an abandoned farmstead just outside of Vault 19. Only a few hours outside of Goodsprings. They had hoped to get a good night's rest before entering the town the next day. And it was there, that their mysterious stalker had decided to make himself known.  
  
The house itself was two stories, looking like someone had added the second floor recently and rather haphazardly. There was a swing set in front of the house giving the whole thing a creepy quality. The farmstead looked like a crew of raiders gone through it, only the ones dead were raiders. There were nine dead. The bodies displayed outside in front of the farmhouse like a message. Morgan led the way, gun out. Cheyenne by her side sniffing around with Tuco and Grady slightly behind her on her right and left. Sunny and Isaac stayed a little further back by the truck, keeping an eye out for anyone who might come out from the second story, Isaac with his plasma sniper rifle and Sunny with her varmint rifle. K and Caliban approached the house from the sides, K with her sword out, and Caliban with a big piece of wood that had nails in.  
  
The bodies lay strewn upon the ground surrounded by spent ammo, as if the people or person who killed them couldn't be bothered to drag them away. Most were shot, but one had his face beaten in with a weapon neither Grady, Morgan or K could identify. Grady picked up a shell left on the ground and inspected it. "12.7 mm, belongs to one of our shooters."  
  
"What makes you say that?" Asked Morgan.  
  
"The rest of the casings on the ground are tens and nines and one or two shotgun shells. This looks like whoever killed him shot him from afar, then finished him off up close."  
  
"And the one missing his face?" Asked Tuco.  
  
Grady shrugged, "Maybe one of the other people who did this had some weird blunt object."  
  
"Think they might be inside?" Asked Morgan, gesturing with her head towards the front door.  
  
"Guess we'll find out." Said Grady.  
  
Morgan moved towards the door slowly, keeping an eye out for any kind of booby trap or mine. When she didn't see any she put her hand out, intending to open the door. But before her hand reached the doorknob, it began to jiggle. She backed up, signalling at K and Caliban on the sides to be ready. "Come out!" She called, aiming her gun at the door.  
  
It opened. The inside of the house was pitch black. As if whoever had chosen to stay there had covered up all the windows or anything else that would let light in. A lone figure came walking out of the darkness, slowly coming into view. He was an imposing man with dark skin and wore his hair in dreadlocks. He wore an old sleeveless duster, a mask that looked like it was for breathing in toxic environments. A shirt with various pouches and straps, some combat pants, and black boots. He carried a 12.7 mm submachine gun and had what looked like a flag pole on his back with blood on the eagle. His presence was intimidating, giving off an aura that said this was a dangerous man. Morgan found herself unconsciously gripping That Gun even tighter.  
  
"Are there more of you," asked Morgan, "who are you?"  
  
He spoke in a low gravelly voice, it had a sinister quality to it. "I am alone," he said, "and I am Ulysses."  
  
"You killed all these raiders alone?" Morgan asked, though she knew the answer. He looked like he could have done it in his sleep.  
  
"You strike me as a woman who has killed far more by herself. Is it so hard to believe?" His eyes pierced right through her. His gaze was intense, but Morgan refused to look away.  
  
"You're not wrong," she said firmly, she looked around at the house and at the bodies, "do you live here?"  
  
"Here?" He echoed, as if not expecting that particular question, "no. Been tracking you for two nights. Figured you'd stop here for rest. Called it correctly."  
  
"Why have you been tracking us? What do you want?"  
  
"Want?" He said. It didn't seem to register. "Don't want anything. Here because I was sent. Here to join you."  
  
Morgan didn't lower her gun or her guard. None of this was making any sense. "You're here to join us...because someone told you to?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Who? Who sent you?"  
  
"Another like me. A Courier." He paused and looked directly at Sunny, who almost gasped when he made eye contact. "Your Courier."  
  
She whispered at Isaac to watch her back, he nodded and kept aiming. Sunny went around the truck and made her way closer to Morgan and Ulysses. She stopped just behind Morgan and to her left, "Six," she said. He nodded slowly, "Six sent you to help us? Help Goodsprings?" He nodded again.  
  
Morgan spoke up, "You don't strike me as someone who goes out of their way to selflessly help others, why did you accept?"  
  
Ulysses turned his head back to Morgan and met her gaze again. "Shouldn't judge others so quickly. True, I'm not here because I want to. Here, because I have to," he looks at Sunny and she almost flinches as his gaze, "Your Courier and I? We have...history."


End file.
